Mickey's First Time
by koganphrancis
Summary: There isn't much in life Mickey hasn't done yet, but he and Ian do come up with ONE new thing.


Hi Shameless fans! "Sorry I'm late", but I just got into Shameless and Gallavich, and I thought I'd try out a little drabble that would be set back a couple seasons (I'm not thinking about the end of Season 5 until Season 6 shows us what's next-or at least I'm trying not to). This little story would take place after Svetlana had the baby, maybe, or maybe just before, but before anything else had started going wrong…

Mickey let out a happy groan as Ian gently pulled out of him, flopping facedown onto Ian's bed beneath him. Ian swatted at his butt and Mickey rolled over and made room for Ian to join him on the bed, reaching past Ian's body for his jacket that he had thrown to the foot of the bed the moment they got through the door, pawing their own and each other's clothes off and not even making it onto the bed. Mickey had just bent over and held on while Ian made him see stars.

Now Mickey was lighting up a Marlboro while Ian got his breath back, lying flat on his back and panting up towards the ceiling, his hand resting on his chest feeling it's fall and rise. They had the whole house to themselves for once. Mickey didn't know where the various hoodlums that made up Ian's family were, and he didn't care. He was just glad to have some peace and quiet for once. But after a minute of that, Mickey had to be Mickey and do something about the quiet, maybe it was too quiet.

"So, you never banged Angie, huh?" he asked. Ian sighed loudly and shook his head. NO. "Ever had sex with any women?" Mickey asked, just unable to let it alone.

Ian pushed himself up into a sitting position next to Mickey. "No, Mickey. No women. I'm just not interested."

"But you'll fuck old men? I'd rather fuck a woman than an old man." Mickey hated that he'd thought about this, but ever since he had seen Ian being pawed at in the Fairytail, it was sort of on his mind. A lot.

Ian sighed again. "It usually doesn't come down to fucking. They take me home, play with me for a while, get me high, give me some money and cab fare home." He shrugged. If Mickey wanted to hear more, he was going to have to ask for specifics.

"Do they, ah," Mickey looked down at where his hand was clutching the edge of the blanket. "Do they ever…fuck you?" As soon as it was out of his mouth, he wanted to take it back. He didn't want to know if the answer was yes.

"Naw, I don't take it up the ass from any of them. Most of them can't even get it up anymore. That's why they're so interested in my dick-it still works without pills. And their hearts can't handle booze _and_ the blue pills, and they can't resist the booze," Ian laughed, but there wasn't any light or humor in it. "I only have one rule, generally, when a guy takes me home: I'll suck it, but I won't fuck it. I've even come to embrace the use of dental dams. There's very little direct contact between them and me."

"Jesus," Mickey muttered. He should be used to this attitude, his own "wife" worked in the business and he knew it came down to flesh and dollars, but this was Ian they were talking about. He was smart. Maybe not Lip smart, and not as smart as Mandy, but smarter than all of Mickey's brothers and him put together. "So, have you ever…" Mickey raised his eyebrows.

"Have I ever what, Mickey," Ian said patiently. He was smart enough not to go all school teacher and add, "use your words".

"Have you ever been fucked?" Mickey said quietly.

Ian barked out a laugh. He didn't know what he had expected Mickey to say, but he guessed that wasn't it since he was genuinely surprised. He took the cigarette from Mickey and took a drag, leaving it between his lips as he exhaled. "Um, yeah, my first time, I was actually a bottom," Ian said, squinting at Mickey through the smoke and grinning around the butt. Mickey was very still, and very quiet.

"I thought you quit smoking," he said after an uncomfortable silence, and internally berated himself for saying that. He had overheard Ian tell Fiona he had quit, and he was inexplicably happy when Ian said that. Jesus, next thing he'd start keeping a journal all about his little boyfriend: "Dear Diary, Today Ian wore the green shirt that I love…"

Ian scrunched up his eyebrows and nose, trying to remember. "I don't think so…"

"Oh, I thought I heard Fiona saying something," Mickey said, covering. "She was probably on your ass about something."

"Yeah, probably. Diversionary tactic," Ian agreed.

"So, bottomed your first time," Mickey said and wanted to punch himself in the face. Why couldn't he just shut up? Why couldn't some of the Gallagher brats come home and save him from asking this shit? "Uh, Kash, huh?"

"No, actually-there was one guy before Kash. Roger Spikey."

"Donkey Dick?" Mickey sputtered. "And you bottomed? And that was your first time? Damn, Gallagher, how did you stay gay and go back for more after that?" Mickey honestly wanted to know.

"Why do you think I've only topped since?" Ian giggled. "Naw, seriously, it was bound to hurt the first time no matter what, right?" Mickey didn't know, he honestly didn't remember his first time, he had been so shitfaced. "Mick, what's this all about?" Mickey didn't answer. "If it's about you and Svetlana, or me and other dudes…" Still nothing from Mickey. "Did you want to be the first guy who…got me?"

Mickey quickly said, "No," but shifted his eyes down and to the right, a sure tell he or Mandy were lying to Ian, and Ian knew it. "Fuck you, Gallagher, you think I was dreaming about our wedding night or some shit? Me deflowering you? Dream on."

Ian sighed sadly. "You've already had a wedding night, but believe me, Mickey, if I had known you were going to be with me someday, I would've waited." Mickey felt a strange lurch in his stomach. It was almost like he was going to be sick. He did sort of heave, but only a weird strangled sound came out.

"Hey, Mickey?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you do me now?" Ian said. He almost insanely asked if Mickey would make love to him, but caught himself in time.

Mickey went back to staring at his hand twisted up in the blanket. "You don't have to…" Mickey began.

"No, I really want to-I've really wanted you to, I was just afraid you'd beat me up if I asked," Ian said. Mickey finally looked up and saw Ian was grinning.

"You punk bitch," Mickey said, getting his arm around Ian's neck and pulling him into a headlock that was more of a hug than anything. Ian was laughing softly and managed to stub the cigarette out. He scooted down so he was on his back, looking up at Mickey in the pale afternoon sunlight.

"Hey, I just realized," Mickey said. "I've never done this face to face with you."

Ian wrinkled his forehead, remembering. "There was that time Frank caught us, in the cooler…"

"Doesn't count. You were standing up, and I was sitting on that chest, leaning way back. Your face was miles away, we weren't face to face…"

"And you had that Wolverine beard-I didn't want to be near your face…"

"And I had my leg up over your shoulder-we were as far apart as could be and still be fucking." Mickey was laughing down into Ian's eyes. "And I never fucked a guy face to face in juvie," Mickey said softly, his voice promising Ian he was telling the truth. Neither of them wanted to think about the one time Mickey did face the person he was having sex with. Mickey leaned way down and whispered right into Ian's ear. "And nothing with Svetlana counts-I wasn't facing her, I was hiding from hurting you." Ian's heart broke a little at that, but again, he knew Mickey was being truthful.

Mickey moved his face just a bit, so he could kiss Ian. Softly at first, but quickly building up to something serious. Ian had spread his legs and Mickey found the tube of lube they had dropped on the bed during their first round. Mickey took his time preparing Ian, taking far more time than Ian ever took with him-not that he needed or even wanted him too, Mickey enjoyed the main event. But this was a rare experience for Ian, Mickey wanted it to feel good. After a few minutes, Ian was pushing down, practically fucking himself on Mickey's fingers, so Mickey decided he was as ready as he was going to be. Mickey lubed up, then lined up his cock and started sliding in slowly, watching Ian's face the entire time. Ian's eyes were half closed, the irises of his eyes expanding further and further till there was only a little of circle of green around a fathomless darkness. Ian was biting on his lower lip and making the happiest of sounds. Mickey got lost for a second, thinking how he was causing all this, but then Ian sort of bucked up his hips and Mickey started driving into him, hitting Ian's prostate and getting joyful shouts out of his beautiful lips.

"Fuck, Mick, right there, keep going, right there," Ian told him.

Mickey lifted one hand off the bed and used it to start stroking Ian. Ian was just in sensory overload and warned Mickey he was close.

"You and me both, come on, COME ON," Mickey replied. Ian groaned and with one last deep thrust, Mickey got him to come, Ian's fingernails digging into his back. Mickey could feel Ian's muscles squeezing him even tighter inside, and he came with a shout. They both rode out their orgasms, holding on to each other and kissing whatever their lips could find. Ian's eyes were still closed when Mickey opened his, and he looked down at how amazing Ian looked, all exhausted but happy. Ian felt Mickey's stare and opened his own eyes.

"That was great, Ian," Mickey said in a voice Ian had never heard before. Ian didn't know if he could believe his own ears, or if he was just hearing what he wanted to hear. Ian's hands fell away from Mickey's back and onto the mattress by either side of his head. Mickey tore his eyes away from Ian's face and placed his hand over Ian's fist on the bed. Automatically Ian's hand opened up and they intertwined their fingers. Mickey had a fleeting thought of thankfulness that no matter how much he had always fought his head and heart when it came to this entrancing redhead, his body always responded and opened up to Ian no matter what. He looked back from their intertwined hands into Ian's eyes, ice blue meeting spring green. He was still breathing hard and there was so much in that look, Ian didn't know if he could stand it. Now he had the compulsion to say something, to break the unnatural quiet of the house, of Mickey.

"Ian, huh? Not Gallagher, or bitch, or fire crotch?" Ian teased.

Mickey smirked. "Not Gallagher, or bitch, or fire crotch," Mickey said, grinding his hips against Ian's on the last nickname. His face got serious again. "Ian," he said, so gently that never in his life had three little letters sounded so much like three little words.

There's a first time for everything.


End file.
